


Lessons in Adapting to the Modern World

by technicallyGone



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes as Captain America, Bucky Doesn't Have the Metal Arm, Bucky dealing with depression, Happy Ending, M/M, Nurse Steve, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Suicide Attempt, mentions of past trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:07:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technicallyGone/pseuds/technicallyGone
Summary: James "Bucky" Buchanan Barnes is America's protector, a national hero, the one and only Captain America. He's been dealing pretty well with the modern world since he woke up.Enter Steve Rogers. He's small and cold and absolutely professional. However, the seemingly frail nurse gives Bucky a surprise when he's suddenly caught up in an attack and makes his way through it like this was all part of a normal work day. Suddenly, Bucky becomes a lot more interested in the other and realizes that he can't just adapt if he wants to thrive.(Please take note of the tags! Mentioned suicide attempt and a lot of dark themes are mentioned. Keep yourself safe.)





	1. Lesson 0: The Story

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a work in progress and my first dip into writing fanfiction for a fandom I've loved a long time. This deals with a lot of heavy topics, including but not limited to: depression, suicide, anxiety, PTSD and a variety of other things that comes with being Captain America (or Captain America's nurse).

The story of Captain America was one of a hero. A classic story, told repeatedly during holidays, in classrooms and through various people who had connections with him during his life. It was a story of perseverance and determination, of fierce loyalty and bonds forged, of justice and truth and all the good old fashioned American values.

The story of James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t that grand, though. It was a story of a man drafted for the second World War. It was the story of a man who was captured, who was the only one to escape, who was offered a spot in a project because of what they’d done to him at that facility in Azzano. It was the story of a man who promised his sister he’d returned the first time he left, and said his final goodbyes the second.

Rebecca Proctor would tell people the parting words of his brother before he took off, fought and made his way through the war before finally crashing a plane into the Arctic. 

“They were gonna make me a weapon, Becca. Joke’s on them, though- I think I already am. ‘Specially after all they’ve done to me. And I don’t think they let weapons retire like they let people do.”

She said she argued, told him he better swear to come back like the first time, but she wasn’t surprised when she finally got the letter. Said she knew before they even released it to the public. She died assuming he was dead, and she hated the world for it.


	2. Lesson 1: Assumptions

Lessons in Adapting to the Modern World: 1 - Assumptions

Bucky should have known stories weren’t that simple. Nothing was. There was never just an ending. Endings left questions and possibilities and a million loose ends that could never really be tied up. Still, at some point, you had to stop questioning and start just making assumptions and going with it, let it be done.

He assumed Tony was an asshole and he was right. His opinion changed only slightly when he started visiting the other in his lab late at night, asking about a million questions about everything he didn’t know and what’s gone on in the world since he’d been under the ice. He was sure he could dig deeper, that Tony’s story didn’t end at an alcoholic who cared a little too much about his friends and not nearly enough for himself, but you had to put a stop on things.

He assumed Natasha was fucking terrifying and he was right. Didn’t stop her from being his first real friend after waking up, though. She was quick and smart and perceptive and more sympathetic than she led on. 

He assumed a lot of things about a lot of people, and even if he didn’t get it completely right the first time, it wasn’t hard to get a new grasp on how he saw them. Some people he knew really well, some not at all. It wasn’t anything new or excited- assuming things about people. There were just a lot more people that he made assumptions about now that he was an Avenger and had public attention as the first Avenger and a fuckin’ miracle that survived what was labeled a tragic accident and what was really a suicide attempt.

There were a lot of people around Stark’s tower at any given point in the day. There were workers for his technologies on some floors, people helping to operate his business, all under Pepper. There were security guards and secretaries and desk people and students and workers and a whole array of people who kept the giant building they called a base up and functional. There was even a damned medical wing, made especially to treat patients of the less-than-human kind after a fight. It was the only place that knew how to handle a super soldier. 

He assumed the nurse that often saw him was kind, but cold. A small thing, the illusion probably amplified by the baggy scrubs basically hanging off him. Alright, that was a big of an exaggeration, but he was definitely smaller than Bucky. He wore glasses and he recognized the small device in his left ear as a hearing aid, similar to the ones Clint wore and not at all likes the ones Bucky had grown up seeing people use. He wrapped up Bucky’s wounds and cleaned him up with steady hands and an even steadier straight face, despite what he might throw at the other. He didn’t seem effected at all by the fact he was cleaning up and mending Captain America, just treated him with the same kind detachment he did with everyone else. And that’s where it stopped. Steve Rogers was just a nurse- nothing more to read into.


	3. Lesson 2: Bullshitting

Lessons in Adapting to the Modern World: 2 – Bullshitting

It would be an absolute lie to say that Bucky hadn’t always been a sweet talker and a charmer. Like many of the things he used to adapt, bullshitting was not new to him. However, the way he had to bullshit was absolutely something he had had to work on when he first got here. 

First and foremost, the entirety of the internet absolutely ruined much ability to bullshit. People could look up what you said in an instant and find out if it was true or not. So instead of lying about facts, you had to lie about the way they were presented. Even with everything at the tip of their fingers, people still only seemed to hear what they wanted to, and that absolutely worked in his favor. As long as he didn’t get that disbelieving look at some point, he was golden.

“Yeah, I’m followin’ along. Now come on, you can’t explain flyin’ by stopping every second. You have these rockets that are actually repulsors in your hands and feet in the suit, and you manage to concentrate them to use them to fly. Now explain this infinite clean energy source you apparently got powerin’ these things and I might start believing this isn’t just some magical armor you pulled out of you ass.”

Bucky knew that Tony didn’t always talk to him for Bucky’s benefit. Sometimes, he thinks the man gets lost in his mind. He waits a heavy second to see if the other’s going to call him out on it, point out that he’d been going over the repulsor’s purposes and that he briefly skimmed the energy source about a half hour ago, but he doesn’t. He talks more, seems to get out of his head some, and when Bucky finally hits the hay, he’s walking out behind Tony.

The biggest problem with bullshitting is when someone calls you out on it. Most of the time, people let Bucky go with it. Natasha especially picks up on most of his lies and when he’s bluffing and allows him to hold the farce, so long as he isn’t doing something too completely stupid.

Steve Rogers, however, does not tolerate that shit for one second. Bucky’s bewildered the first time it happened, because if Bucky could pick up that you were supposed to let some things go and he’s been playing catchup in this century for the past few years, then someone born in this time should definitely know the signs!

“There’s a cut on your side I still need to look at before you can go, Captain Barnes.”

“For the last time, Steve, it’s just Bucky. And it’s fine. It’ll be healed up and gone in no- ow!”

Steve had had the fuckin’ audacity to put one of those glove-covered hands at his side and push, the little shit. 

“Doesn’t seem that superficial to me if a little pressure is getting that kind of response out of you.”

It’s not an “I told you so” voice or mocking, and that drives Bucky up the wall more than if it had been. It’s just that same calm, steady voice of his, deeper than it has any right to be and leaving absolutely no room for bullshit.

“Sit down and take off your shirt.”

Bucky’s pretty sure that’s why Steve’s the nurse he always sees, instead of any of the other guys or gals that work there. Out of all the nurses, they gave him the one that wouldn’t just let him go with a quick smile and a promise that he’d been fine, that he was always fine. Steve didn’t follow the second rule, and that rubbed him the wrong way. 

He didn’t even do it in the way that Pepper did, wheedling her way through the conversation until you were agreeing with her without even realizing you’d changed sides. No, Bucky could appreciate that. Steve was something else, direct and forward. When he spoke with that calm authority in his voice, it made him seem as if you were half his size, but it wasn’t an intimidation thing where you were afraid of him.

Steve Rogers, kind, cold, and immune to bullshit. Bucky could live with that, could try to ignore the fact that Steve Rogers not fitting perfectly in his little box and infecting Bucky’s mind at other times when he had no reason to be thinking about a nurse of all people wasn’t slowly going to drive him mad.


	4. Lesson 3: Fighting

Lessons in Adapting to the Modern World: 3 – Fighting

Weapons were all new. He could throw a shield with the same deadly accuracy his bullets had leaving the barrel of his sniper rifle. 

Apparently, this wasn’t enough anymore.

“What the actual fuck is that thing you’re carryin’ ‘round?”

Clint raised his eyebrows, looking at him like he was an idiot. That’s why he liked Clint, no pity, no cushioning things, and he could take it as good as he got it. He was the closest to “normal” in this place. He had an apartment downtown and a dog and the first time Bucky went over to just drink a beer and get caught up on shitty TV was the first time he felt like himself instead of America’s golden boy. 

“It’s a bow. You know- Hawkeye. This and purple are kinda my thing, buddy, where the hell have you been?”

“Mostly under ice.”

“You can’t use that as an excuse for everything! You’ve seen me use exclusively this bow since we’ve been fighting together.”

“I dunno, workin’ well for me so far.”

The quips went both ways, but after that, Clint introduced him to all the new weaponry of the 21st century. The only crash course Bucky had gotten so far had been on shields and guns, including but not limited to accessories like bulletproof vests and silencers. All this wasn’t actually helpful when he had no clue what the hell his teammates were firing all around him. Of course, Thor didn’t count since only he really knew what the hell Mjolnir could do and Bruce was, well…the Hulk.

Clint taught him about his bows and arrows- which apparently, there were a lot of different kinds of. Natasha taught him how to throw a knife hard enough to pierce bone, which wasn’t difficult, given his strength. The real test of her patience was getting him to throw it accurately enough to actually come close to hitting anything resembling bone. 

He thought he’d been pretty caught up on fighting after that and the numerous missions he went on. Tony insisted on showing him war documentaries (never anything too graphic. They’d all had enough  
graphic in their lives) to keep him up to date on the new technologies introduced through all the wars he’d missed. Even if he didn’t see it in action, he knew nuclear weapons weren’t something to fuck around with.

Sometimes, it seemed fighting never stopped. Especially when he was in the hospital wing, getting six perfect stitches from a certain nurse with perfect, steady hands and no hesitation. The illusion was somewhat broken, though, when the first gunshot rang out.

To say the least, firing off a gun in a place where at least two-thirds of the patients worked regularly to save the world, and not many of that number took their mental health as seriously as their physical health, was a horrible, horrible idea. 

Bucky couldn’t honestly admit to remembering the next few minutes well. He did know, however, that when he finally came to, Steve was gripping his shoulder, the other hand on his own left, trying to pry it open. It seems he’d taken a pretty large shard of glass (where’d he get that?) and was gripping it as he took cover behind the bed. 

The second thing he noticed after he finally loosened his grip and get Steve pluck some of the shards out of his hand was the body on the floor of the cramped examination room. He hadn’t…he didn’t remember, couldn’t have-

His thought was interrupted as someone else came in, the partially-closed door hitting the wall as he kicked it open. Bucky reached out to pull the nurse behind him, but he didn’t even manage to grab the scrubs hanging off him before that little blond was between him and the intruder and burying that glass into his shoulder, the gun making a loud noise as it dropped and Steve decked the guy. With a crack coming from the broken nose, Steve nudged him out of the way with his foot before closing the door again.

It was only now that Bucky took in the other. Steve’s hands, those steady hands that gave him stitches and poked at cuts he said were fine and wrapped him up more times than he could count, were shaking. He looked pale, his face drawn. A quick assessment of the first body shows Bucky probably didn’t do that. There were no bruises, and lord knows Bucky loved aiming for the face. Not actually practical, but utterly satisfying and effective enough when you had his kind of weight and strength to put behind it.

“Did you-“

“Quiet.”

Bucky did as he was told, not moving from where he’d been crouched down until the alarm that’d been sounded when the first shot rang out finally died down. That’s when Steve stood. There was shouting outside, an assessment of patients and workers all being called for. That’s when Steve finally moved. It was a mess, a bustle of people and Bucky actually finally doing something. You can’t exactly say no to Captain America after all, right? Right. Familiar faces in times of stress and all of that. He left for his apartment after that, despite Tony urging him to stay. 

He knew Tony probably shouldn’t be alone as he sits there for days and frets about how someone got in, how that even managed to happen, how he could basically let someone in with his incompetence, but Bucky needed to be home, in his own room.

It’s not until he’s trying to sleep that night that all his thoughts turn to how easily Steve disarmed the second man, how he apparently did the same to the first


End file.
